Cursed be the work that gets honorable mention,
While necessity awaits to spring forth invention.
What we seek is a fare, a one way ticket somewhere,
But hesitation keeps us marking time where we are.
It's not right and it isn't fair, for all the scratching of my hair,
I can't seem to figure out what the devil goes where,
So what else can one do but wander around searching,
Like a man looking one way and walking another,
Who doesn't sleep deep but wakes up very slowly.
Well why to I mention this? I don't really know.
Ask my computer. It governs me, I govern it not.
We risk our future to feed desires of social fantasy
And we give our souls short shrift and bad press.
Most decisions can be traced to vanity, food, or sex.
Our food habits go from one stoke hole to the next,
And food passes quite rapidly from the table to latrine.
We live rapidly and we die hard, sad, and often alone.
Then six others carry our carcass, to the grave.
We need to acquaint our body and soul ahead of time,
And make the proper arrangements for separation,
That when the role is called up yonder we'll be there.
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